In memory of Nicole Lewanski

See! Sydney.
”
“Hi,” I said, suddenly feeling wide awake. “I’ve been expecting your call.”
“Great! Angie mentioned that you were interested in taking the intern position
here. Are you free to come at ten tomorrow morning for an interview?”
“Absolutely! I’ll see you then.”
I 
ARRIVED
AT
a gray nondescript building half an hour before my meeting time. I
sat downstairs at a coffee shop and grabbed a copy of the latest paper. I was
absorbed in a story about taxi drivers claiming to have picked up ghost passengers
when my phone began buzzing. I peered at the screen. It was Lucy.
“Hey, Lucy. What’s up?”
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“Guess!” Lucy always got a perverse joy from holding back exciting news and

---

making you work for it.
I sighed. “Lucy, I have, like, fifteen minutes before my meeting starts, so let’s
not do the guessing game today.”
“Fine then, you killjoy. You know my uncle Harry? The one who works in
advertising?”
“Mr. Fancy Pants?” I said, with a smile. Lucy’s uncle Harry was a flamboyant
man who had a ruddy nose and perpetually flushed cheeks. He had no children of
his own and had always doted on Lucy. I remember him at their family
gatherings when we were kids—often performing magic tricks and taking great
delight in our astonished faces.
“Yes, Mr. Fancy Pants. He just got a job offer to work in Paris for a couple of
years. Anyway, he asked me to housesit for him while he’s away. Which is
fantastic because Freddy and I are starting our course at Sydney U next year, and
his house is nice and close. He says you can move in too, if you want. As long as
we take good care of the place.”
I let my mind play catch-up with her words. 
Move out. 
My brain seemed to
single out the phrase from the jumble of sentences.
“Us, move out?” I asked dumbly.
“Yes! If you get the internship with 
See! Sydney
, we can room together in his
house.”
“But what about rent and stuff? I’m not getting paid for my internship.”
“We don’t have to pay rent. We just have to take care of the place.”
“Seriously?” I said.
“Yeah, isn’t it great?”
“Oh my God!” I was suddenly jubilant. “I can get away from my mother!”
“Exactly,” said Lucy happily.
“Like, I don’t have to see her every single day.” The thought was almost too
wonderful to process.
“And our boyfriends can stay over too! Duck’s starting his course next year, so
it’s perfect. Audrey, we’re going to have a blast!”
“We’ll have to get part-time jobs, for groceries and stuff,” I said happily.
“We can figure all that out. I think we can get some government grants or
whatever, and I get access to my trust once I start university. We can do this,
Audrey!”
“We totally can!” I answered, feeling exuberant.
“Are you doing anything after your meeting?” she asked.
“No, I’ll text you when I’m done.”

---

“Okay, I’ll pick you up afterward; we can go and check out the house
together.”
A
N
IMMACULATELY
DRESSED
woman in her midthirties was standing in the elevator
when I walked through its heavy doors. I gave her a half-smile.
“Which floor?” she asked.
“Uh, seven,” I said, as she reached for the set of buttons to the side.
“You wouldn’t happen to be Audrey, would you?”
I turned to look at her. “Sam?”
She nodded, sticking out her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she said with a warm
smile.
I smiled back as we shook hands. I liked her immediately.
“Angie has told me so much about you,” she said.
“He has?”
She nodded. “He gave me the latest copy of your school magazine.
Outstanding work.”
“Thank you. It was his baby.”
There was a 
ding
sound and the elevator doors slid open.
“Yours too, apparently,” she said, as we stepped out of the lift. “Your articles
were great to read. A little dark perhaps—but I do like your style.”
She led me down the narrow hallway and through a frosted glass door with the
words